‘I write these things to you who believe in the name of the Son of God, so that you may know that you have eternal life.’ Oh NO. What if we’re not sure if we believe that Jesus Christ was the Son of God? What if we’re not sure if we believe in Jesus, period?

The first scripture reading this morning, the sixth Sunday of Easter, is Genesis chapter 3, verses 1 – 6 and verse 20. During our “Reading the Bible Again for the First Time” Bible Study on Tuesday night, we read this piece of Genesis discussing the historical context in which it was written and seeking out our own metaphors within the creation myths. As you encounter this piece of scripture now, try to do it like it was your first time – without any preconceived notions about what it means or how it should all be interpreted. Let’s listen now to the woman who would be named Eve:

I am a list person. Maybe you are too. You wake up in the morning, and the first thing you do, before caffeine even, is make a list of all the things you need to do during the day. And with great pleasure, as you accomplish your life, you cross things off the list, starting with, “get caffeine.”

“The Earth is the Lord’s, and all that is in it.” And boy will he be mad when he sees what we’ve done to the place. We made holes in the ozone, tore up the carpets of forest and grassland, poisoned the honeybees. All in all, we couldn’t be worse tenants.

This is the God’s-honest truth: I never got mad at God when I had cancer. I didn’t see the point. I didn’t think God gave me, a relatively young non-smoking mother of two, cancer, so why would I hold Her responsible?

The scripture reading this Sunday, the second Sunday of Easter, comes from the Gospel of John, chapter 20, verses 19-29. According to John, on the first Easter morning before dawn, Mary Magdalene made her way to Jesus’ tomb and discovered it empty. She went to get to get Simon Peter and the Beloved disciple and they came back with her and finding the tomb empty the men then went home. But Mary stayed at the tomb weeping and searching for the body of Jesus and that’s when she saw the angels and Jesus appeared to her. Jesus told her to go find the disciples and tell them the good news of the resurrection, which she did. Our scripture reading picks up later that evening.

What would you do if you were Jesus, and it was the Monday after Easter? You’ve had a busy Sunday. It is not that easy to come back from the dead. Even if you’re God, there are a lot of logistics to think about: what to wear, because the Roman soldiers have taken every stitch of your clothing; and, more importantly, in what order to stage your resurrection appearances. There are all these fragile egos around. If you visit Mary or Salome first, James and John might throw a stink; but if you put the guys first, the women who were bankrolling the whole endeavor might pull their funding.

Jeff: It makes me mad. Getting cut off in traffic. It hits me just as I hit the brakes. Road Rage. Well, what can you do? The news comes on and a soldier has killed civilians in Afghanistan. Women and children mostly – while they slept. 17 more victims in America’s longest war. I’m angry with the staff sergeant, furious with war. Some guy taking off his coat in Diesel, bumps my partner from behind. Hard enough that Julia spills her coffee. No sorry. No excuse me. No nothin’. I want to haul him up over my head and throw him through the window onto the sidewalk. I want to yell, punch, scream – RAGE! I want the world to see the animal in me and to be afraid. For the third time in one day someone asks me for change. I’m annoyed at her because I’ve got no change left. I’m infuriated at a world where people have to beg for change. A world where billions of us – BILLIONS – live on less than a dollar a day. Less than you could beg for in Davis Square. Can I even get angry enough? I walk into work one day and my boss picks a fight with me. Don’t worry, though, I won’t let him get to me. 12 hours later I’m brushing my teeth before bed and seething. Thinking of all the things I should have said. All the things I WILL say – one day, ONE DAY. It makes me mad. I was 21-years-old and working for Habitat for Humanity in Miami. There’s a kid, Germaine, who comes around the job site all the time. He wears the same dirty ripped clothes every day. He never goes to school, no one ever seems to be looking out for him. I let him help me out with the houses. Become his friend. His mother’s on drugs he tells me. He lives with his grandmother but she’s really old. One day I’m sharing my lunch with him because he never has any food. He grabs onto me hard and whispers in my ear. Will you be my daddy? Will you be my daddy? Will you be my daddy? Over and over again. And I say NO. I can’t. I’m sorry. I wonder if I’ll ever stop being angry at myself for that NO. I wonder if I’ll ever find a place for this wrath. Will I ever make something of it? What can I do? It makes me mad.

Jesus said, "Listen carefully: Unless a grain of wheat is buried in the ground, dead to the world, it is never any more than a grain of wheat. But if it is buried, it sprouts and reproduces itself many times over. In the same way, anyone who holds on to life just as it is destroys that life. But if you let it go, reckless in your love, you'll have it forever, real and eternal.”

And so we have arrived at the fifth in our Lenten series on the cardinal sins, Lust. Insert nervous laughter here.